


Bittersweet

by orphan_account



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Biting, Catwoman mention, Dubious Consent, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mates, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mild Blood, Post-Killing Joke, Rain Sex, Scent Kink, Scent Marking, Self-Lubrication, mpreg mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 21:49:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12591256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The scent of the Joker was a distinct bitter chemical smell but on that night on the rooftops it was tempered with the sweetness of an Omega in heat. The Joker's anatomy was so twisted Batman had never considered how he dealt with his heats, or how in his own way the Joker already considered Batman to be his Alpha. Maybe it was just his bleeding heart but he couldn't just leave the Joker to his suffering. When he had said he wanted to help the Joker he meant it, even if that meant abandoning his chances for another relationship forever.





	Bittersweet

It had been a night much like this one when the Batman had chosen his mate. His on again off again flame Selina had permanently broken off their relation over it. His family had waited in awkward silence, respecting his ability to choose while condemning his choice. It hadn’t been a real choice. He had to after what he had seen.

 

* * *

 

 

It had been raining all week. The rain washed the rooftops of the grime of Gotham, filling the air of the alleyways with the smell of wet asphalt and garbage. It dulled the detective’s nose, washing away the scents he could track as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop.

A week ago, there had been a breakout at Arkham Asylum, one prisoner missing. The Joker.

After that Batman had stalked the night, desperate for any sign of the clown. He had tracked purchases, scouted out abandoned buildings, interrogated thugs, and turned up nothing. He’d resorted to patrolling the city with increased urgency, alert for the faintest whisper, the smallest hint of what the clown could possibly be planning. The rain ran down the cowl, bringing with it the chill of the Gotham night.

Batman was on edge. He slunk across the rooftops; the picture of an Alpha on the hunt. The rain deadened smells but he still sniffed the air for the Joker’s uniquely chemical scent. It was habit but he saw him before he smelled him, a scrap of colour caught at the base of a rusted water tower in the industrial district. He swooped down on him. The rain-soaked purple fabric darkened to the shade of a Czar Plum as the Joker let his head hang back and the water run down his face. The rain turned his hair the color of imperial jade. He was shivering, soaked to the bone but still facing the rain as if hoping it could cool the heat under his skin. Each breath was a desperate, sick pant for air. The wet cloth clung tight to his chest and the bulge of his erection.

“Alpha?” The Joker croaks like a rusty gate. The eyes normally so alive with hatred are as dead and glassy as a fish on a slab; Batman doubts he even sees him, just smells him.

The bitter chemical edge of the Joker’s tempted is tempered by the irresistible soft sweetness of a Heat. The mixture suits him, something soft and vulnerable but still undeniable dangerous, exciting even.

Batman was aware the Joker was an Omega; it seldom figured in their battles because the Clown was mentally too busy pinging off the Planet Venus to obey the Alpha growl or recognize when to submit. The standard scent blockers at the Asylum stuck as firmly as his sentence; maybe that’s why he had never given thought to the Clown's heat before. Stupid, he should have realized from the blood tests he had done that the Asylum’s heat blockers would have no effect on the Joker. He must have been supressing it for as long as he could, then escaping to spend an isolated week alone with his misery. Batman had read all his father’s medical texts; a heat could be endured without a mate or medication but it was agony for the Omega. That pain only increased over each heat endured this way and he had no way of telling how long the Joker had been supressing his heats for. With the added stress of suppressing a Heat for long as possible the pain could be outright fatal.

The Joker sat curled up around the leg of the water tower, shivering, in pain and both more vulnerable and more tortured than Batman had ever seen him.

Batman curled his cape around them both, blocking off the rain and turning them into just another spot of shadow in the grey landscape.

“Bat.” The Joker croaks. Batman isn’t sure if he is lacking the energy or mental ability for longer sentences. Probably both.

Batman touches foreheads with the Omega, letting his strong Alpha scent show through the smell of rain on rooftops. With the rain running off the back of his cape the natural bittersweet scent of the Joker fills each breath. It’s intoxicating and sends blood sluggishly south.

“I am here.” He reaches out to stroke one skinny, shivering shoulder. Tension locks the Joker’s body in place, what little muscle he had bulging with the force of restraining himself.

 “Hurts.” Joker whimpers. “A-Alpha, please.”

He can barely speak, the effort of holding himself upright has drained all his energy. Batman is the one who rests both hands on the clown’s shoulders and pulls him into a tight embrace. He feels some of the tension leave the Joker’s frail frame as the alpha scent envelops him. The clown weakly nuzzles at his chest.

“Bat.” He whines.

“Yes, it’s me.” Batman strokes his fingers through the Omega’s hair. “I’m here to help you.”

Part of him is furious, wanting to know why the Joker has chosen this suffering rather than allowing himself even a disposable mate but a larger part knows this is his own fault. Joker made it clear that he considered Ace Chemicals their mating bite, that he would never be satisfied with another Alpha, grinding and moaning against him during their fights as if the beating was just to excite him. If his Alpha didn’t want to mate him he would endure, endure until he could see his mate again. If it wasn’t for the rain Batman doubts he would have ever stepped foot from his hidden room where he suffered in silence.

Now he was here. Batman couldn’t leave him. He knows he should, every fibre of common sense in him screamed to administer a hormone blocker and be done with it, that the Joker deserved this suffering, but he can’t make his limbs uncurl from the porcelain doll pale man in his arms. He was so helpless. Batman couldn’t abandon him, not when he could still save him.

His scent was intoxicating. Batman breathes out slowly to steady his increased heartrate. He was an adult, he had smelled Omegas in heat before, he knew every part of the chemical equation of how an Omega’s heat effected an Alpha and still it was having an effect on him. He rests his head against the crook of the Omega’s shoulder to breathe it more of it. His hand slip against the Joker’s chest, pawing at the wet cloth. He licks at the Joker’s neck to taste the bitter-sweetness and stifles a growl of annoyance that the collar is getting in the way. Damp clothes were a health hazard, they should come off, at least that’s the excuse he makes as to why he’s suddenly so desperate to touch more skin.

He is not gentle with the buttons as he drags the moisture-heavy cloth from the Omega’s shoulders and lets it drop onto the rooftop. The newly exposed skin is soft and pale as moonlight. Alpha instinct tells him to mark it as the Omega bares his throat to him. A dark, primal part of him wants to know what his mating bite would look like on that bleached pale skin.

 He holds his jaw back from breaking the skin as he tightens it around the Joker’s throat. He growls to assert his dominance and the Joker whines instead of growling back. What he wouldn’t give for him to be this compliant during their fights.

The Batman rests a palm against the bare hollow of the Joker’s stomach, just above the fine line of green hair that peaked above the hem of his pants. He feels nothing but tense, knotted muscle around the Omega’s womb. The Joker’s breath hitches.

“Pup?” He asks in a hoarse croak.

“The day I pup you is the day I let you den in the Batcave.” The Batman snorts. “If I am going to fix this I have to mate you fully, is that alright?”

Joker doesn’t seem in any state to refuse but he feels better for asking. It makes him feel less ashamed at the rush he feels getting to touch him like this. He does have an excuse for it, an unchecked heat was a medical risk and a heat this far along couldn’t be satisfied with his hands or mouth. The Alpha in him growls. Has he really gone so long without sex, was his training so fragile that he was being effected by an Omega in heat? No, he knew how to control his inner beast, he kept it fed and satisfied, it was something about this Omega’s heat that was causing him to come undone. It was the two most primal excitements; sex and death and if the Joker was going to provoke him to one he would prefer it was the first.

His hand slips to the clown’s hip and he slowly slips down the purple pants. The damp cloth is heavy, clinging to the pale skin, and the Omega whimpers at the pull of cloth on his arousal.

“Hush, hush.” Batman mutters to soothe him, trying to imbue his voice with alpha confidence.

“Bat.” The Omega whines with need.

It is cold outside but Batman’s skin prickles with warmth. He buries his face in the crook of the Omega’s neck, breathing deep of the scent that was uniquely his. He wants to bite, bite until the blood runs, bite until the scar sinks so deep it can’t be hidden. He is salivating at the thought, the remembered taste of the Joker’s blood from where he had licked it from his gloves after a fight. He struggles to hold his jaws in check as he bites down.

The Omega yelps, his back arches back and his head strains to bare more of his throat in the classical pose of the Omega’s submission. His cock, as pearly white as the rest of his skin, twitches against his stomach. It’s long and slender and perfectly straight against his stomach. Beautiful, his Omega was beautiful.

No, he couldn’t think like that, he didn’t have an Omega. His concern here was supposed to be solely medical. He shouldn’t be getting so hot under the skin. His blood was singing, his inner beast desperate for satisfaction and he no longer cares if the Omega has manipulated this situation as he unclips the belt. He is glad that the suit hid his arousal but without it his inhibitions flee. He pulls the Omega firmly onto his lap and their erections brush together. The Joker moans, Batman bites his lip to stifle his deep groan of satisfaction and shoves their mouths together. The Joker tastes bittersweet, chemical death and candyfloss, and the lipstick he wore just to make a mark smears across his lips.

He presses the Omega's back to the grated metal of the water tank and grinds his hips forward. Their arousals rub together and the Joker whines a desperate, needy sound. Batman's hands slide up his thighs already sticky with slick. He licks hungrily at the Omega's pale skin as he guides him into place, compressing the taller man against his chest. He mutters little barks and growls of encouragement, trying to get his partner to loosen up as he slowly slips in. The Joker groans a deep, long animal note as the tip of the Alpha's cock presses against the tensed muscle.

The Omega's body is still painfully tensed against the heat and despite his Alpha instinct telling him to ravish his Omega Batman is gentle. He slowly opens up his partner, massaging away the tension inch by inch as more of the Omega surrenders to him. The Joker moans and whimpers and lets out sharp shuddering gasps at his care. All the Omegas Bruce Wayne had slept with had been socialites with well-kept heat cycles, even the few he had slept with as Bruce Wayne hadn’t let things get this bad. He shouldn’t but he loved the challenge the Joker's body was providing. He loves teasing him into relaxing, massaging away the pain and stress and replacing it with pleasure as he claimed the Omega inch by inch. He took pleasure in how barely human the Joker's sounds were, shifting in register from high-pitched whines to low moans. When he finally gets his erection settled firmly in the Omega's hole he can’t hold himself back from again capturing the Joker's lips in a passionate kiss to taste the bitter-sweetness of his saliva once again.

God, he was addictive, honest-to-god _addictive._ How had he lived so long without tasting him? Even Ivy, master of pheromones, hadn’t appealed to the beast in the way the Joker did. There was something to the obscene blend of hate and love in twisted reflection, both steadfastly dedicated to each other in inverse ways, both obsessed beyond the point of saving, both sinking into each other like a chemical bath…He knows he shouldn’t but he loves it, he loves the touch of his skin, the taste of his mouth, the way their bodies seemed made to fit into each other.

He’s salivating. His jaw aches to break with years of tradition and training in good manners and tear into the Omega’s flesh, leaving great bleeding gashes that would scar the reminder of mating into him. The Joker’s body seemed like a canvas begging to be marked, years of fighting screamed at him to mottle that skin red and purple with bruises. His teeth are already leaving bruises against the Omega’s throat, hungering for the taste of his blood once again.

When he bottoms out he can’t hold back his small grunt of satisfaction and the Joker gives a pleased gasp. Still shivering from the cold but no longer knotted up tightly inside the Clown’s pale arms curl around his neck and he tucks his head neatly under the Alpha’s chin. Batman can feel the warmth of his calm breaths ghost against his throat. His arms curl firmly around the Clown’s skinny shoulders, holding him tight, and he tries his first slow thrust.

The Omega groans, his body accepting the Alpha’s cock easily, uncharacteristically welcoming and submissive. It sparks a dark possessiveness in the Batman and he draws the cape closer around them. White and black under the moonlight.

He loses himself, or rather he loses that tiny part of himself that is always watching, always calculating, in a wave of primal lust. It feels good, it feels so damn good to just let it go for once. He can taste the Omega on his tongue as he lets his Alpha instincts take over and their breath mingles in the midnight air. The Joker’s skin is cold but his insides are hot and slick. The contrast is thrilling.

There’s no longer any point in pretending he hasn’t wanted this for a long time now; it hadn’t been allowed, Batman couldn’t be tarnished with desire for a twisted Omega but right now he wasn’t the Dark Knight of Gotham, he was an Alpha in rut. He bit and growled and his Omega yelped and gasped back, just two animals together at last.

His blood was singing as he did what he should have done the first time they met, what he had secretly wanted to do every time since and speckled that pale skin with red. His teeth cut into the flesh and the Omega’s bitter blood floods his mouth as he ruts against him. The Omega moans, a deep and needy sound as he presses firmly against him and wordlessly begs for the Alpha’s seed. The Alpha obliges, rocking his Omega’s skinny body with each thrust as he pushes in his growing knot and releases his seed into his Omega’s eager body. The two pant in the breath of their mate as Batman releases his bite. His teeth shine bright red with his mate’s bitter blood as their bodies lock together in the ultimate expression of ownership.

The Alpha sucks the blood off his teeth as he cradles his mate close to him. The Omega slumps, exhausted but finally satisfied now he has been mated and the Batman reaches for his utility belt. He pulls out his syringe gun and gives the sleeping clown a shot of military grade contraceptives. He doubts the Omega’s body could fully support a pup, his DNA didn’t even read as human so the malformed hybrid would die long before birth but it was better safe than sorry. He had enough to explain already without having to raise another child. Anyone who knew either of their scent profiles would know what they had been doing; Batman and the Joker were now irreversibly mates. Hell knows what the effect is going to be on Gotham’s underworld, let alone his family.

Sleeping would be unwise but the Batman slips into a near meditative state to recover his energy. He lets his mind drift, lost in the sound of the rain, until a stirring on his lap returns him to his senses.

“Don’t bounce like that.” He grunts.

“Why not?” the Joker grins up at him.

“Because if you do I’m going to want to fuck you again.” The Alpha growls.

The Joker fingers the half-congealed patch of blood on his neck.

“I wouldn’t mind that.” He mutters to himself.

“It is cold, wet and barely hygienic up here.” Batman points out. “Just wait until my knot goes down and I can get you somewhere dry.”

“I hate waiting.” The Joker pouts and throws his arms around the Batman as if he was an oversized teddy bear.

He nuzzles against the Batman's chest, not that he needed to spread his scent.

“Batman is my Alpha.” He chortles. “Oh boy, the Cat's going to be pissed.”

“I promised I would help you get better didn’t I?” Batman curls a protective arm around the clown's skinny back. “I am here for you, even for taking care of your heats.”

“Don’t be like that Bats. Just because we’re mates doesn’t mean I will be giving this whole reforming thing a try.” The Joker mumbles.

Batman strokes his fingers through the Omega's slick imperial jade colored hair, trying to restore it to its normal state.

“What are you doing?” The Joker mumbles as he lies still, calm and compliant in his Alpha's arms.

“Grooming.” Batman says, though it is obvious to them both.

“Mmmmm.” The Joker hums in satisfaction as his Alpha's fingers calm him.

His breathing slows, his unnatural energy leaving his limbs, even his grotesque smile relaxes as much as its able to.

“I love you Bats.” The Omega mutters.

Batman leans in and kisses him. It’s a soft, slow, gentle kiss that ends with the Joker's acid green eyes staring adoringly up at him.

“My Alpha.” He whispers.

“My Omega.” The Batman replies and a genuine smile tugs the corners of the Omega's lips.

“I thought I was dreaming.” The Joker whispers. “I thought I would wake up and you wouldn’t be here.”

“Never. Never again, I promise.” The Batman whispers back. “If you ever need me just come and find me and I will be here waiting for you.”

“Maybe not _here_.” The Joker frowns. “This rooftop is filthy.”

The Batman laughs.

“True. You’ll find me, you always do.”

The Joker makes a small wordless noise of contentment and settles back against his chest. Batman wraps them both up in his cape and waits while the rain runs down his cowl and the gutters overflow.

 

* * *

 

 

That had been nearly a month ago. He had gathered up his mate in his cape, redressed him and returned him to the Asylum.

After that there had been the trouble with the family. Those that hadn’t outright disavowed him had labelled him a martyr to the clown and honestly, he didn’t think this would make the Joker easier to control but he had to do something to break the cycle.

He _wanted_ to do something to break the cycle.

A perimeter alarm breaks him out of reminiscing; the cave’s defences are being triggered. He pulls his mask on and quickly isolates the source, preparing his contingency plans as a pale skinny hand grabs the edge of the cliff.

Dripping cave water the Joker pulls himself to his feet, one hand holding his gashed shoulder and the other resting on the spot just above his stomach.

His smile is terrible to behold.

“Pup!” He barks proudly.


End file.
